An idyllic unsatisfactory town is rocked when Aubrey Fleming (Lindsay Lohan), a bright and promising under age woman, is abducted and tortured by a algolagnic serial assassin. When she manages to flight, the traumatized girl who regains consciousness in the nursing home insists that she is not who they think she is and that the actual Aubrey Fleming is in physical danger.

I Know Who Killed MeLindsay Lohan stars in a Mulholland Drive for the 'Lost' generation with unpleasant flashbacks to The Butterfly EffectI Know Who Killed Me could have been an intelligent study in post-modern celebrity culture, citing Lindsay Lohan as an example of fracturing reality and social psychosis with reference to Baudrillard's theories of signs in 'Simulacra And Simulations.' But it isn't. It's joyless junk in which the director of All Cheerleaders Die, Chris Sivertson, pays homage to a self-important Lindsay Lohan with his interpretation of her car-crash career.
Lindsay is Aubrey Fleming. She wears glasses. She won't have sex with her boyfriend. She's a good girl. Lindsay is also Dakota Moss. She's a stripper. She wears hotpants. She's a ...

Joe Leydon

Much like the ongoing real-world meltdown of its troubled star, Lindsay Lohan, I Know Who Killed Me is a disaster that exerts a perverse fascination. Indie helmer Chris Sivertson (The Lost) flounders throughout his first mainstream venture, even as he demonstrates flashes of visual flair and sporadic mastery of moods, and never seizes full control of the hopelessly muddled plot about a maimed young woman who may be a delusional escapee from a serial killer's dungeon (think Captivity meets Kiss the Girls). Pic might possibly benefit, B.O.-wise, from tabloid coverage of Lohan's ongoing travails. But, then again, probably not.

Opening scenes initially come off as a teasing fake-out, with Lohan introed as a sensuous stripper who may actually be the literar...

Jan Stuart,

When an actor demonstrates as much flair for upstaging the war on terrorism as Lindsay Lohan does, reviews are remarkably beside the guts. This was unhesitatingly the figure out for shielding critics from Lohan's newest epic work send-off lifetime, a trick that also all things considered signals to a given and all that an egg of Jurassic proportions is just about to be laid.

You have no idea.

I Know Who Killed Me, patently a animosity thriller in the slice-and-dice vein of Captivity and Gnome, bagged as innumerable laughs in its blood-bath finale as anything in The Simpsons Movie. The moralistic flick side of Freaky Friday with unexpected undercurrents of The Patty Duke Show, it showcases Lohan as a adolescent who wakes up a certain day to behol...

mixed upi aphorism this motion picture when touring in the usa its a strange one but it keeps you guessing till the

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